Days
by OccasionallyIWriteStuff
Summary: Everyone copes with tragedy in their own ways and sometimes the only way to take a step forward is by waiting enough time for it to not be quite as unbearable as it used to be. Follows the individual parts of RWBY Jaune and how they felt during the time jump towards the end of the V3 finale, so there are spoilers.
1. Weiss

_A/N: It's been awhile. The finale was good. There are spoilers for it if you want to read this story. Also, trigger warning for self harm._

* * *

Atlas was colder than Weiss remembered.

The air in Vale always had the semblance of warmth. Weiss wasn't sure how, but rumor had it that Forever Fall kept winter from being unbearably brutal. It would snow and the temperatures would drop below zero for sure, but it was uncommon if there weren't at least a few heat waves throughout the winter to melt the ice and warm the heart. At least, that's what Ruby and Yang had told her during their first winter at Beacon together when Weiss had been able to wear her skirt outside without leggings.

 _"Yeah, you know what they say, a winter in Vale is like a summer in Atlas!"_

Ruby.

Weiss remembered reading a story a long time ago, about a man who died in the wilderness because he underestimated the cold. The man hadn't listened to his animals and had thought that the cold was another element that could be mastered as simply as Dust. The book had described the cold as a primal force of nature that was passive in taking his life but actively took steps so that he was constantly closer to death. The cold didn't care if he died, and wouldn't care if he lived, but he was not prepared and didn't deserve to live. So it had taken him.

She remembered thinking that the description had been overdramatic.

Weiss didn't think that anymore.

"Again."

After the first few days back at Schnee Manor, Weiss had stopped checking the temperature before exiting the house. After seeing _-45_ _F_ on the third day and still being summoned outside by her father, Weiss had lost hope that his training would halt because of the cold. He said she had grown soft in Vale. That the disgraces at Beacon had infected her and made her a summer child. That it was his job to remind her of her namesake. And the cold was the tool with which she would be sharpened.

Weiss didn't believe him and still didn't though her father thought she did. The first week Weiss had defied every command and endured every punishment. But a week without food is enough to change anyone's mind, especially if that someone had never spent a day of their life truly starving. Or, at least that's what her father thought as she fell in line and began accepting his orders.

The drills were run outside; from when the sun rose until it set, Weiss practiced and trained in the snow of the grounds. Sometimes her father would send droids and she would have to destroy them. Other times she would be punished for destroying his droids and not simply disassembling them because "No daughter of mine is nothing more than a killing machine."

On occasion there wouldn't be any droids and Weiss would simply have to stand and wait for her father to tell her the day was finished. Enduring as long as possible as she felt her aura drain and the frostbite almost set in while she answered questions or riddles.

"Again."

The training was the easy part. Beacon had given her enough endurance that Weiss would be able to run a marathon and still have energy left to bike a hundred miles and swim even after that. There was little question on whether Weiss could last that long under normal circumstances.

But the cold.

"Again. Do it right this time."

The air burned to breathe and every gasp was painful. Though she was cold, it only took Weiss a few days to realize that when one is truly cold, they no longer feel it. Sure the first few hours were painful and her shivering always brought comments on how soft she had become, but after those initials hours it wasn't as bad. Her hands and feet were always the first to lose feeling; problematic since she often had to hold Myrtenaster or make glyphs or even just walk, but those could be worked past. Then her ears would go, the most painful of all the areas that freeze though Weiss didn't really know why. Nor did she care. She deserved it.

And after the pain, it was warm. Or, rather, it wasn't bone chilling anymore. It was a fake warmth that brought her agony when she tried to warm herself by the fire at night, but it was enough. She took solace in the warmth beyond the pain. It was a mercy granted by her own body from the unyielding, uncaring cold. Temporary and, if accepted, a guarantee of death but still a mercy. Sometimes, Weiss wondered if accepting the warmth and dying would easier.

"Beacon made you soft, daughter. I can see you shaking and it had only been an hour since you last rested. Run the course at 200% this time."

It would be easier.

Being dead would mean that Weiss wouldn't have to deal with her father and his unrelenting expectations. That she would be able to escape the cold finally by simply accepting it as part of her. Being dead would take away the pit of guilt in her stomach that wouldn't go away and close the cuts on her thighs wouldn't stop bleeding because she wouldn't let them.

Blake.

It had been a long time since Weiss had last cut herself. She couldn't remember when it was, maybe just after team assignments at Beacon. But it was too risky in the dorm and after a few weeks, Weiss realized that she didn't want to anyway. RBY made her happy and she had no real reason to punish herself anymore. Classes were easy and life was good and she let the cuts heal instead of opening them back up like she normally did. Weiss had been happy.

"Now tell me, Weiss, what are the rules and regulations behind the transportation of dust across borders when one of the CCT's is down and there are Grimm overrunning one of the major cities?"

Weiss felt her stomach twist and she almost turned on her father and cut him down right then and there. He wasn't a trained huntsman. He wouldn't be able to stop her. Weiss would be in jail for a long time, but it might be worth it to put an end to him. To his disrespect of her. Of the Faunus. Of the whole world. To think that he was still worried about profit margins after what happened at Beacon sickened her. And he truly didn't care. If there was to be a war, he would be the true victor. All parties needed dust and he controlled the market. Warmongering might be illegal, but only if those who would persecute him weren't also getting a slice of the pie.

But she didn't.

As he knew she wouldn't.

Weiss rattled off the regulations and made sure to include the percentages and ratios that she needed of taxes and import cuts and a mysterious "other" percentage that was surely used for bribery and other illegal operations, increased from the usual ten to fifteen percent. It was easier to state the rules as if his indifference towards the Battle of Beacon hadn't slapped her across the face. Weiss needed her energy if she was going to survive and any rebellion was subject to being crushed with food withdrawals and increased training intensity the next day. Not to mention fewer breaks for heat, edging her dangerously close to frostbite and amputation.

Yang.

"Winter will be here tomorrow so I will end early today so that you can review your manners tonight, I'm sure those were lost at Beacon as well."

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome, my Icicle."

* * *

Weiss's room was empty compared to that of how her dorm had been. Or perhaps, it wasn't. It was filled with expensive furniture and clothing; with pieces of art that would be considered worthy by any museum in Remnant decorating the walls. It was a brilliantly designed room that left enough space for socializing and living while being rigid enough to imply a kind of order to whoever was the resident.

But it had no life.

There weren't any shoes kicked lazily in the corner. No books stacked on top of books. No small toys disassembled and left haphazardly around the room. Weiss didn't have to run a lint brush across her clothes before running out the door anymore. She didn't have to wait to use the bathroom or ask for the lights to be shut off. Nobody knocked on her door at _ungodly_ hours of the night asking for help with homework and no one ever asked if she wanted to eat right after they had just left the cafeteria.

Jaune.

It was warm in her room. Weiss knew that sitting by the fire when frostbite had almost set in was dangerous and more painful than if she let her body naturally heat itself first. But she didn't care. She deserved the pain the fire brought as much as she deserved the pain the cold brought. Her father thought that he was pushing Weiss. Honing the edge that she had "lost" at Beacon. He thought that Weiss had _finally_ submitted to the hunger and to his authority after so long of her struggling against it.

But she hadn't.

Weiss knew it looked that way and didn't care. It didn't matter what her father thought of her. She had stopped caring about that long ago, right around when he had beaten her and Winter because his stocks had plummeted five percent due to an explosion at one of the mines that had damaged millions of lien worth of equipment. Though he never mentioned the workers in the mine who had been killed or the town nearby that had been destroyed when he had been screaming at them.

What Alabaster Schnee thought of Weiss didn't matter to her.

Nora and Ren.

 _You should have done more._

 _You could have done more._

 _You could have stopped it._

 _You could have saved her._

 _But you didn't._

Weiss pressed the razor to her thigh and dragged it slowly across her skin, feeling the intensity of the pain with her huntress sense, amplifying it. Normally, Weiss was fast with her cuts. Efficient and eager to simply watch them bleed. But today had been a bad day. Today she deserved a bit more pain than usual.

Her friends, her _real_ family had been hurt and scattered and Weiss had let it happen. She could have done more. She could have pushed herself even farther and gone with Yang to look for Blake. If she had been there, Yang wouldn't have rushed in and gotten herself hurt. It was Weiss's job to be the cool headed one so that Yang wasn't too reckless. That was why they had been picked for the doubles round. They worked well together and fought well when they were able to communicate effectively and Weiss had let Yang walk away instead of following. And Ruby had found all of them afterwards without Weiss even looking. Weiss had done literally nothing.

What good was a huntress that couldn't, _didn't_ , fight until the very last drop of blood left their body? Ruby and Yang were notorious for getting hurt pushing so hard and even Blake would train until she couldn't walk anymore.

But Weiss.

She always stopped early in comparison. When her knees shook or arms were like lead, instead of pushing harder, she simply stopped because "That was her limit!" Sure, Weiss was notorious for sacrificing her personal well being for her teammates; taking hits and weakening herself to power them up and support them. That was her job. Her role in the team. But the moment of truth, when Weiss could have given her life for another had come...

She had stopped and others had gotten hurt because of it.

Pyrrha.

Weiss felt the tears coming and didn't bother to stop them as they fell off her nose and onto her cuts, the salt burning them. A fake warmth.

Weiss had used gravity glyphs instead of propulsion glyphs.

She had anchored Ruby to the wall instead of throwing her up it.

And now Pyrrha was dead because of it.

Weiss could have done it. She knew it. She could have thrown Ruby up the tower faster than even Ruby's semblance. She would have passed out and been eaten by the Grimm, but that's the price of being a huntress. Sacrifice for others at the expense of your own wellbeing. Your life was the payment you made so that others could live theirs.

And Weiss hadn't made the sacrifice that counted most.

And now Pyrrha was dead.

And it was her fault.

Weiss grabbed the disinfectant from her dresser and applied it to a cotton ball, quickly dragging it over the cuts, relishing about the pain it brought. An infection wasn't something she particularly wanted to deal with and if it got severe enough she would have to admit to cutting again. Her father would be upset but it was Winter that Weiss truly cared about. She had promised Winter that she would stop cutting in a letter sent shortly after her arrival at Beacon last year.

Oh well.

The shower was hot. Hot enough to burn Weiss and the only reason it didn't was because of her Aura. She washed quickly and efficiently, not taking time to enjoy the warmth of the water like she might at school. She didn't deserve that comfort.

The bed was soft. It was the kind of bed that enveloped a person completely and lulled them to sleep through an overwhelming sense of comfort. Weiss was sure that anyone else might have passed out, but she didn't. Her rest had been plagued with nightmares lately. Finding everyone dead or injured. Seeing Beacon crumble to piles of rubble. Watching the lights of Vale fade as Grimm overran it and Weiss soared away on a ship with her father. Occasionally she would be killed herself by an eager Grimm or member of the White Fang. But that wasn't really a nightmare.

Weiss looked out the window and saw the frost creeping at the edge of the pane, edging inwards. Dying wasn't an option. Not right now. If Weiss wanted to pay back the debts she owed, she needed to be alive.

If she wanted to pay back the debt she owed Yang.

Ruby.

Blake.

Pyrrha.

She needed to be alive.

Weiss felt the warmth of the covers over her and felt it spreading through her body. It might not be today. Or tomorrow. Or even within the next few years, but the time would come when Weiss would be able to pay her debts. Perhaps not all at once. But over time they would all be paid. One way or another. Because Weiss couldn't live with the guilt forever. And if she died in the process of getting rid of it, that might be just as good.

Weiss rolled onto her back and closed her eyes.

It was going to be cold day tomorrow.

* * *

 _A/N: Make sure to favorite or leave a review if you liked the story. It means a lot, thanks._


	2. Blake

_A/N: Best review ever of "The finale broke me, and this helped." on the last chapter. Thank you._

* * *

Blake didn't know how far she ran.

But it wasn't far enough.

She collapsed with a gasp and her head hit the pavement of the sidewalk. For a second, Blake considered just staying there and letting the black at the edge of her vision take her, but a shout of annoyance brought her back to reality and she dragged herself into an alley a few feet to her left. Something warm started dripping from her brow and Blake reached up to check if she was bleeding or swelling. Her fingers came back red.

Blake groaned and pressed a hand against her stomach as she felt the wound there threaten to open again. There hadn't been enough time for better stitches to be sewn and the ones holding her closed could be considered amateur at best and hasty at worst.

 _There had been time._

A hiss escaped Blake's mouth as her thoughts betrayed her and threatened the break she had felt coming for the past few days. Blake pushed the thoughts away and edged farther into the alley; closer to a large, green dumpster as someone kicked an empty can at her, muttering something that sounded like "Dirty animal." The thought to attack the man and prove how much of an animal she really was crossed Blake's mind, but she pushed that away too. Those days were behind her.

 _"Blake, what are you doing!"_

 _"Blake!"_

Sun's shouts echoed in Blake's mind as she tried to catch her breath. Sun's voice was angry. Betrayed. Like he had expected better of Blake. Like he had expected her to stay and look Ruby in the eyes. To tell Weiss, "My ex-partner nearly killed Yang but she will be okay." To beg for Yang's forgiveness when she woke up.

Blake nearly laughed to herself. Apparently Sun didn't know her all that well.

Running was what Blake did. It's what she had to do. In the billions of alternate universes that supposedly existed, Blake was sure that there wasn't a single version of herself that didn't run. There wasn't a single Blake that stayed and saw Ruby's tears or heard Weiss's anger or felt Yang's hand around her throat.

 _Only because you make it that way._

Instead of replying to herself like she wanted to, Blake felt her stomach rumble. When was the last time she had eaten? Probably with Weiss at the fairgrounds right before the attack had started. When had that been? Three, four days…?

Blake felt the pain as she thought of food. It had been a long time since she had been truly starving. Not since she had been a street-rat before joining the White Fang. Days without food, most of it scraped from the bottom of a dumpster since no one would give a Faunus a single lien, even if they were a child. Blake could remember one time where a man in a suit had offered her a meal if she chased a toy mouse and meowed for him. She had learned what law enforcement would do to a "delinquent who attacked innocent people, unprovoked" that day.

Another growl came and Blake looked at the dumpster besides her as the smell started to hit her nose. It was a foul, slick odor. Something that burned her nostrils like rotten eggs that had been lit on fire with a bed of hair as kindling. Blake would have vomited if she had anything in her stomach, but the smell was familiar. It was the smell of improperly disposed of burn dust based oils that were commonly used in frying and cooking. Blake turned her eyes up and noticed a neon sign that read _Lily Pad Noodles_ in bright green letters.

 _Neon isn't green. That's a krypton light._

 _Weiss, please, not now._ Blake thought as a smile almost broke across her face. What were the chances that she would collapse right outside a restaurant? For a second, Blake thought about going in and buying some food, but groaned with annoyance and self-loathing as she realized the flaw in her plan. She had left her backpack in Vale. The surgeons had taken it from her while they were operating and there hadn't been time to grab the bag before Blake had left.

As if to answer her thoughts, a bell rung and a couple stepped out of the shop. They couldn't see Blake since their backs were turned to her, but she could see them; and more importantly, she could smell their food. Just above the rancid odor of the oils were the sharp smells of properly seasoned cuisine that was rich with flavor. The broth, the noodles, the _fish_. It was all there. And it all smelled _so_ good.

The couple were two men, both of them shorter than Blake and neither built very well. Even in her injured state, Blake was almost positive she would be able to overwhelm them and take their food. People were afraid of Faunus. And one that had a semblance that could produce multiple copies of themselves would be terrifying. Especially if they didn't know that Blake's clones couldn't actually do anything to hurt them.

Blake's stomach growled again and she even shifted her weight to stand up before she stopped herself. She was better than that. She had given that life up. What kind of huntress would she be if she mugged two innocent people just because she was hungry?

 _One who runs away from all their problems._

Blake pushed the thoughts away again as she used the dumpster as a steady weight to pull herself up with. Luckily, the lid was already open. Half the issue with dumpster food was getting it. Owners usually reported anyone digging through their trash or, if they didn't, simply took the law into their own hands. It was imperative to be as quiet as possible to avoid detection and lids were the nosiest parts of dumpsters.

Blake let out a sigh and then held her breath, pushing her head forward to see what was held inside. The dumpster was about half full. Most of the garbage was in thick plastic bags and Blake felt her heart sink. Without Gambol Shroud she had no way to cut the bags open to get at the food. She most certainly wouldn't be able to get inside the dumpster to try and untie the bags thanks to her stomach, and pulling a bag out would be too loud.

But a jolt of excitement ran up her spine as she saw it: an open bag of slightly rotten greens sitting right on top. Blake wasn't sure how she had missed it on her initial assessment, but she didn't care. Rotten greens were almost as healthy as regular ones. You just had to be careful to pick off the parts that could make you sick.

Blake reached for the food and almost had it in her finger tips when she heard a gasp behind her and the shattering of glass hitting pavement. She spun as fast as she dared and standing in a door that Blake hadn't noticed was an old woman. Her skin was dark and her hair was green and the wrinkles on her face couldn't possibly have all come from the look of shock she was wearing.

Blake pushed off the dumpster to get any sort of momentum going but she felt a stabbing pain shoot up her spine and a gasp barely escaped her lips before she was face down on the pavement again. "I'm sorry, please don't call the police. Please don't. I'll do anything just please don't call the police." Blake heard her own voice and she hated it. She was a begging squabbling mess that and there were tears at the edge of her eyes as she tried desperately to crawl away from the woman and away from her dinner.

"Oh dear! I won't call the police." The woman's voice was gentle and surprisingly kind. The usual venom of discrimination wasn't present and her words seemed truthful though maybe Blake was just hoping. "I'm sorry I startled you."

Blake pushed herself to her knees and then slowly to her feet, the pain of each motion stabbing and cruel. She didn't bother to turn around, "I'll be going."

"Oh nonononononono!" Blake heard the scurry of feet and felt a hand touch her shoulder which she flinched away from and that quickly retreated in turn. "Please, come inside and eat. This isn't how anyone should live."

A moan from her stomach that shot electricity up Blake's center betrayed the lie she was about to tell. Honesty was supposed to be the best policy anyway, "I don't have any money."

The hand came back and hovered an inch from her shoulder before retreating again, respecting the boundary. "It will be on the house."

Blake didn't say anything. She didn't want to impose on this woman. Involving her in Blake's life, even if only for a brief moment could be disastrous as it had often proved to be. A member of the White Fang could be sitting in that shop right now and could recognize her as soon as she stepped inside the door. This noodle shop would surely be burned to the ground and Blake would have to keep running. And if the pain in her abdomen and head were any indication, she wasn't up for much more.

But her stomach growled again and Blake felt how heavy her eyes were. Without food she couldn't survive. And if there was anything she was good at, it was surviving.

 _And running._

"Only if I can't be seen by the front."

The woman paused for a second, "Of course, dear. Now come with me." Her voice had a tone of surprise, and maybe even suspicion, but it wasn't to any degree that Blake felt she was being lied to.

With a heavy sigh, Blake turned and followed the woman inside the restaurant.

* * *

The kitchen was small and cramped, filled to the brim with pots and pans of various shapes and sizes along with crates of food stacked haphazardly against the walls and appliances. There was a young man with lion ears working at cutting vegetables when Blake walked in and he briefly raised his head to asses her before looking back down at his knife work, apparently unimpressed. Blake thought about the dirt, blood, and bandages on her and couldn't help to agree with his assessment though Blake had to wonder why he wasn't at least a little surprised.

The woman took Blake's hand and guided her to a back room. It looked to be a walk in pantry with its narrow walls and shelves but the table and single chair sitting in the center of the area disrupted the space. Not to mention there wasn't a single ingredient on any of the shelves.

The woman motioned to the chair and Blake took a few steps forward to take the seat before pausing. If she sat down, she wouldn't be able to see the door. She wouldn't have time to react if someone came in behind her.

"Um," Blake took a step back. "Would you mind if I faced the door?"

The woman eyed her for a second before shaking her head and going to rearrange the chair and table. Blake felt guilty that she couldn't help, but she doubted she would do anything but get in the way given the state of her being.

After a few seconds of scraping and grinding and an impressive flip of the chair, the room was oriented such that Blake could both get by the edge of the table and would be facing the door with her back to a corner. "Thank you."

"Now, please, take a seat." The woman smiled as Blake inched her way past the edge of the table between the shelves and the wood and then gingerly took her seat.

"I will be right back."

Blake watched as the woman rushed out of the room and heard the clatter of pots and pans in the next room along with shouting in a language that she couldn't understand.

 _You shouldn't be here_.

The pit of anxiety in Blake's stomach twisted and gnawed at her though she wasn't quite sure what was hunger and what wasn't. Was the woman calling the police and had simply tricked her so that Blake wouldn't escape? Or would that come later when the woman accused Blake of stealing food from her because she thought Blake had money and Blake had "lied" to her? Or maybe she was getting a knife and since Blake was trapped-

The woman came through the doorway with a bowl full of steaming liquid. "It isn't much, but it is what I can spare for now. I will make you more but I figured you were hungry now." She rested the bowl in front of Blake and smiled brightly.

"Thank you." Blake took the spoon from the bowl and held it up to her mouth, pretending to have some semblance of control instead of simply drinking the whole bowl right then and there. Her aura could probably heal internal burns. Or maybe it couldn't. Biology wasn't one of Blake's stronger classes.

The broth hit her tongue and it exploded with flavor. The seasoning was hot, but not overwhelming with a flair of salt and vegetables. There were so many flavors that Blake lost count of them but they ranged from fish to celery to ginger to soy and everything in between and it took all of her control not to moan with pleasure. Blake went for another spoonful, and another, and before she realized what had happened, the soup was gone.

Blake looked up to find a small bowl of noodles sitting at the end of the table. Apparently she had been so engaged with the soup that she hadn't noticed the woman come in and place it there. Blake didn't pause to feel the embarrassment creep onto her face and instead started grabbing the noodles with the chopsticks provided and devouring those as well. They were just as good, if not better than the broth and Blake couldn't help but wonder if she was supposed to have mixed the two together.

The pattern continued for a little while longer, Blake eating and not noticing more food being presented to her and then consuming that as well. Though her stomach had shrunk over the past few days, Blake kept eating until she was absolutely full and nearly sick. There was no telling when she would get another meal like this.

 _Especially if you keep running._

The food in Blake's mouth turned to ash as the woman came around the corner and Blake saw her eye the only partially eaten bowl of chick noodles. "There is a shower upstairs and a spare room if you'd like to spend the night, dear." She moved to start clearing the multitude of dishes that Blake had accumulated and before she left the pantry she looked back, "There are stairs on the other side of the kitchen. If you leave your clothes outside the door I will wash them while you shower."

"Tha-"The woman was gone before Blake could finish the words and even wonder if she wanted to accept the offer. This woman had shown that she was able to be trusted. Was there any real harm in taking her up on the offer to spend the night and giving herself a break? God knew how long it had been since she had taken a shower…

 _You don't deserve one._

Blake pushed the thoughts away and stood up; inching past the table again and heading towards the opening that lead to the kitchen. She pocked her head through and didn't see anyone so she quickly moved through it, making sure to duck underneath the window that lead to the front of the store despite the pain it caused.

The stairs were almost hidden behind a few boxes of mysterious roots that Blake couldn't identify but she moved past them and rushed up the stairs as silently as she could. The upstairs hallway was about as wide as the pantry had been, but the doors seemed to open outwards instead of inwards. Poor building design for poor people no doubt, but Blake paid it no mind as she quickly spotted the bathroom and entered it.

It was a tight room filled with one too many fixtures though Blake couldn't tell which one was the wrong one. The small sink that hung to the wall came out a bit too far and the toilet was a bit too large as well, meaning to get to the shower, one had to step over the toilet. Before Blake committed herself to the action, she began stripping off her clothes.

Each article seemed to stick to her in a new way. Some were from mud, caked into the clothing and glued to her body. Others were from sweat, slick and slippery but still clinging to her skin like oil. And her shirt was taped to her with rusted blood that cracked and pulled at her skin as it released its grip on her.

Blake folded the clothes as best she could and opened the door to place them outside but was met by the woman. Blake jumped in surprise and hid as much of herself behind the door as she could, feeling the heat in her face.

"Oh, sorry." The woman didn't sound very sorry but she grabbed Blake's clothes and then handed Blake a towel. "Here you go. There are spare clothes in the room two doors down on the right. That's where the bed is."

"Thank you." But the woman was already heading down the hallway with her clothes. With a sigh, Blake shut the door and placed the towel on the toilet, taking a second to look at herself in the mirror above the sink.

Blake looked about as good as she felt. The cut on her forehead had bled and dried into her eyebrow, matching the tons of dirt that was plastered across her body and face; both shining from the oil and sweat that lay in a thin layer across her entire body. Her hair was matted and wild and her bow had long since stopped hiding her ears. She braved a look to the stab wound on her stomach and found it staring back at her, angry and red. Almost definitely infected.

"Great." Blake stepped over the toilet and into the shower, struggling for a minute on figuring out how to turn the thing on, but quickly found that the knob had to be pressed as well as a little lever pulled. Water shot out from the shower head and Blake pulled the curtain shut as she felt the cold water run over her body. Something damp pressed against Blake's hair and she felt her bow pressed against her head. With a curse, she untied it and tossed it onto the towel, freeing her ears.

The water turned warm and Blake began washing her body. It was a slow process as she didn't want to upset her wound any more than she already had. Each motion had to be deliberate and purposeful and though the water was never hot, the warmth was comforting. It crossed across her stitches without upsetting them but the wound itself was tingling. For a second, Blake risked closing her eyes, just to feel the water run down her.

 _"Miss me, my Love?"_

Blake felt the intense, searing pain of Adam's sword again, pushing through her stomach and her eyes shot open, wild with the energy of the fight.

But there wasn't anything there. It was just her. Showering.

Blake took a breath. She shook as she inhaled and suddenly the water didn't feel warm anymore. Blake could feel it, at the edge of her mind. The break that had been building for a few days. But not here, not now. Hopefully not ever, but Blake couldn't risk falling to pieces in a stranger's shower.

After a minute, Blake felt her breathing normalize and she shifted positions so that her back was to the faucet the water was steaming through her hair. Agitating the stab wound on her front was a good way to bring back unpleasant memories. Blake shut her eyes so she could wash her hair without the soap getting in them. It would be fast. It would have to be fast. It-

 _"If you were so sorry, why did you leave?_ "

Blake opened her eyes before Yang could say anything else. She would rather be stabbed by Adam a thousand times than hear Yang again. Blake didn't want to imagine what it would have been like if she had stayed. That's why she had left. That's why she had-

 _"I'm. Not. Running!"_

 _"You will."_

Blake felt the chocked sob escape her before she could stop it as she remembered the few words she'd said to Adam. Before she'd been stabbed. Her vision began to swim and her breathing shortened. Pain shot up Blake's spine as she felt the sword again and it took everything she had not to cry out in pain. Before-

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Yang." Blake chocked out another sob and something started running down her face though Blake couldn't tell if it was tears or water. "I'm so, so sorry." Her body racked with sobs and her knees hit the linoleum of the shower floor. "I didn't mean for this. I never wanted this for you. For anyone." She'd gotten so many people hurt because of her mistakes. Again. It was like she had never left Adam's side. Like she had planted that bomb. So many hurt. Because of her.

 _"You brought the White Fang right to our doorstep! How could you?"_

"I know Weiss. I know." Blake took her head in her hands and ran her fingers through her hair a few times. Each pass the fingers snagged and she pulled out a few pieces of hair but she didn't care. Blake started rocking back and forth as she saw Weiss take a few steps forward and press her pointed finger against Blake's chest. Accusatory. The implication was clear, Blake had said that the White Fang wasn't a part of her anymore and she had _lied_. It had come for her and it had broken her. Weiss stepped away.

 _"Blake, we know that you didn't mean for this to happen but a lot of people got hurt because of you."_

Blake brought a hand to her mouth as Ruby scolded her and her dinner threatened to release itself. Her team leader was disappointed. Ruby was one of the few people who had ever reached out to try and kindle some sort of connection with Blake. Ruby, the person who believed in everyone and what anyone could do if they just put their mind to it. The gentle frown and slant of Ruby's eyebrows as tears fell down her face. Blake shut her eyes to try and escape the sight but Weiss came back instead.

 _"And then you ran! Blake, you promised us, you promised me, that you would be with us through thick and thin!"_

"Weiss I-"

Blake was on the ground with Adam staring down at her. The thin, cruel smile as he read Blake like a book.

 _"Starting with her."_

Blake's vision swam as she saw it happen again. Adam was more than ready when Yang turned the corner. Yang screamed in fury and leaped forward, using her weapons to make herself even faster. For a second, it was almost as if she was going to be too fast for Adam.

But no one was faster than Adam. He cut. She fell.

A hand grabbed her shoulder.

 _"Blake, how could you leave without saying goodbye?"_

Blake chocked out a sob and let out a wail of pain and remorse as she heard the betrayal, the pain in Yang's voice. It was the voice of someone who had been broken, learned to love and then was kicked again because they had let their guard down. Blake wailed in remorse, "I'm _sorry_ Yang, but I love you too much to let this happen again! I can't let anyone get hurt because of me and the mistakes I've made! I can't let you get hurt again because of me! It's my fault, it's all my faaauulllt!"

* * *

 _"Blake, you know that I would do it again if it meant that you'd stay don't you?"_

 _Blake took the cup of tea that Yang offered her and sipped it as Yang waved her stump at Blake with a smile. "I mean, I guess I'm all-left instead of alright, but that's okay. Just means I get to make arm jokes!"_

 _A shadow of what might have been a smile passed across Blake's face. "Why? It's my fault you got hurt."_

 _Yang shrugged with a smile and took a sip of her soda. "Nah, I got a bit too feisty. You know how I am. Besides, it means that you loooooovvvveeee me."_

 _Blake sipped her tea again, hiding the heat that had risen to her face. "Yeah so? Doesn't mean you love me."_

 _"Maybe I do. I never got to tell you if I did or not."_

 _Blake felt a twist in her stomach and felt her heart in her throat. "You do?"_

 _"Maybe. You know you can't run from yourself right?"_

 _"I don't know what you're talking about." The cup clanked loudly against the table as Blake set it down a tad too hard._

 _Yang smiled, a sad smile that made Blake's heart hurt, "Well, when you do, let me know."_

* * *

Blake woke up with tears in her eyes in a bed she wasn't familiar with. It took a second, but she remembered where she was and realized that she must have passed out in the shower and the woman must have brought her to bed. Blake felt heat in her face but didn't bother to register it as she sat up off the mattress and looked for her clothes. She found them on a chair by the door with a small note on top that read: **Cleaned as best I could. You're welcome.**

Blake got dressed as quickly and as silently as she could, taking care not to press all her weight anywhere to avoid any loose floorboards giving her away.

As soon as she was dressed, Blake wiped her eyes and left the house. She thanked the woman one last time before she left the building and prayed that she hadn't caused her any trouble.

Blake felt something at the edge of her mind but she pushed it away. The thing slid away with almost no resistance and Blake felt her stomach flip. A break like that couldn't happen again. Blake wasn't sure she would be able to handle another if it came. _When_ it came. Seeing those things had been too much.

Blake shook her head and stepped out of the alley and into the darkness of the street. The sun hadn't come up yet but it looked as if it was only a few hours away. She had a long day of travel ahead of her.


	3. Yang

Every morning, Yang watched the sun light up the sky. She couldn't see it rise from her window, but she could see the brilliant colors it cast as it rose on the opposite side of the house.

And every night, Yang watched it set the horizon on fire and sink beneath the tree line, letting the crushing darkness in.

Taiyang, Dad, was the first person to try and talk to her. He was crying when he opened the door. He rushed over and said, "I'm so happy you're okay! When I heard what happened at Beacon I thought that maybe, you and Ruby…" He trailed off for a second before hugging Yang. It was tight and warm and everything an overwhelming parent's hug should be like except it was lacking something. Yang couldn't tell what it was, and she didn't particularly care to find out either. "I'm so happy you're okay kid."

Yang didn't say anything. She kept staring out the window, reaching for a speck of dust on the windowsill with a hand she knew wasn't there, but she could still feel at her side, pressed against the fabric of the blanket. Phantom limbs were something that Yang had heard of, but she hadn't believed to be real. How could someone feel something that wasn't there? Now she knew.

"I know it'll be tough getting used to it, Yang, but it could have been a lot worse. We're lucky."

He knew? No, Yang didn't think he understood at all. He might have lost Summer, Raven, but he'd never been the reason. He wasn't the reason people kept leaving him and getting hurt around him. And lucky? Beacon was gone. Pyrrha was gone. Everything that Yang had every trained and lived for was gone. All of it was lying in the ruins of what had once been her home. Lying among the bodies of her friends. It wasn't lucky that Yang was okay. It would have been lucky if she had been killed. She wouldn't have to deal with the pain of losing everything. Everyone.

Blake.

Taiyang hugged her again. "Don't worry kid. Sunflowers don't break easily and if there's anyone I know who can make it through this, it's you." Yang heard him water the plants and felt the tug of fabric as he fixed the sheets as best he could. Yang heard him stop for a second by the end of the bed, as if he was going to say something else, but he didn't.

He left the room.

Yang didn't notice.

The sun was going down.

* * *

Qrow came in the next day. Or maybe it was the day after? Yang wasn't sure. She didn't sleep well anymore and had no sense of time without classes to keep her on a semi-regular schedule. Not to mention her clock was still in her dorm at Beacon and Taiyang hadn't wanted to leave the house to buy anything in case Ruby woke up and he wasn't there for it. For her.

"Hey there, firecracker." Qrow's voice was raspy and rough as always, but it wasn't tinted with the slight slur that he usually sported. Maybe he had run out of alcohol and hadn't had time to get some more before stopping by. Taiyang always hated when he drank anyway.

Qrow stepped up to the window and stared out it with her for a while. Yang didn't know what she was looking for. Answers, maybe. Why had she been so stupid? Why had all of this happened? Why had she been abandoned again?

Blake.

Yang saw Qrow pull something out of his pocket and place it on the windowsill. It was a small, black bird. Complete with fake feathers and everything. A crow. Or maybe a raven. Yang wasn't sure. She saw him jam his hands back in his pockets and saw his eyes follow a leaf falling off one of the trees closest to the window.

"You know, you used to love playing with this thing when you were younger." Qrow's voice started fading towards the end of the sentence. He was leaving. "You used to say that one day, you'd be a bird and you'd fly away."

Yang looked at the toy and felt tears in her eyes as she remembered the context. She'd said it just after Summer had died. She'd said, _One day, I'm going to fly away and find my mom! Just like a bird!_

"Don't let a clipped wing keep you down, kid. You're better than that." Qrow shut the door on his way out and Yang began sobbing.

* * *

It was another few days before Ruby came to see her.

"Yang?"

Her heart twisted and for a second, even if Yang wanted to say something, she wouldn't be able to. Ruby, the only person who had always been there, through thick and thin. Through elation and more than their fair share of tragedy. Yang felt her mouth go dry as she tried to say something, anything as a response so that Ruby wouldn't leave. She didn't care when Taiyang or Qrow came in. But Ruby.

Yang heard the floor boards squeak as Ruby turned to leave and Yang coughed out a word. The first in over a week. "Ruby." She turned to face Ruby and Yang felt the tears well up in her eyes as she saw the pain on Ruby's face. The flash of what would have been Yang crushing her spirit if she had let Ruby walk out of that room; a second later Ruby rushed over and embraced her. Yang couldn't return the gesture.

"I'm so glad you're okay!"

Yang felt the tears fall from her eyes and she felt her arm reach out to try and grab them before they dampened Ruby's pajamas. But the tears hit the fabric and Yang realized which arm had tried to reach around Ruby. "But I'm not."

Ruby took a step back and Yang could see the emotions written on her face. She had always been good at reading Ruby. People thought she was a bubbly personality that never quit and never felt the rougher edges of life. But that was because they didn't see the slant of her eyebrows, telling Yang that she was worried. Or the tug of her lips downward before it went neutral, which told Yang that Ruby knew exactly what she was about to say.

"It's all gone. The school. Penny. Pyrrha, and-" Yang felt her voice breaking so she decided to stop before she said anything else. Instead, she simply looked at the bandages on her arm. Her stump. _My arm_.

Ruby's voice brought Yang back from the tears. "Yang, where are Weiss and Blake?"

Classic Ruby, always worried about others. Yang had to wonder how her sister was feeling. She had heard Qrow and Taiyang talking about how "special" Ruby was and what she'd done at Beacon. Surely Ruby must be in some sort of pain or something. Maybe they could talk about it later if Yang was feeling up to it.

Yang turned back to face Ruby, "Weiss's father, came for her."

"What? What do you mean?"

Yang took a moment to pause and wrestle the pit that choked her back down. "No one outside of Vale knows what happened here. Before the tower fell, the last thing people saw was Atlas attacking innocent people and Grimm destroying the city." Yang paused as she took a deep breath to try and steady herself. She caught Ruby eyeing the bandages on her arm but Yang pushed forward before tears could fall again.

"Everyone's scared. No one knows who to trust." Yang took another breath and looked up at Ruby. It was a weird sensation, so unlike normal. Then again, nothing was really normal anymore. "So Weiss's father took her back to Atlas, where he thinks it's safe." Yang could hear the edge in her words and she didn't care. Mr. Schnee was an idiot if he thought that what had happened to Beacon couldn't possibly happen anywhere else. "She's gone."

"But what about-"

"And Blake ran!" Yang saw Ruby's eyes drop again as Yang's words cut her. "Sun saw her go." Yang took a breath as she felt the pit in her stomach rising again, and she started again before it had been completely suppressed, "After we got to the city, she just, ran!" Yang gestured a motion not too dissimilar from something stumbling loose from arms that had once held it close.

"But, why?"

Yang turned back to Ruby and felt the ball rise to her throat. "I don't know." Yang felt a fire burn in her stomach for a second and unbridled rage shot through her body, threatening to consume her before she pushed it back down. "And I don't care." Yang turned away from Ruby. She hated lying to Ruby.

"There has to be a reason she-"

"No there doesn't!" The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Sometimes, bad things just happen Ruby." Yang felt her own words stab her as she saw a bird fly past the window. Sometimes bad things did just happen. To the same person. Their whole life. Even though they hadn't done anything to deserve it. Even though they had spent their whole life open and caring and trying to love others with their whole heart. No one wanted their love or cared for it. And they never had. And they never would.

"So what do we do now?"

Yang felt the rage bubble up again. Why should she know? And even if she did know, what could she even do? Yang couldn't fight anymore. She couldn't punch the problems away. And even if she could, Yang wasn't sure she would. "You can do whatever you want. I'm going to lie here." Yang motioned with her stump to the window and she looked down at it. She had meant to point at the bird out the window that was resting on a branch. Ruby loved birds.

"Yang-"

"Just leave me alone."

Yang heard Ruby walk away from the bed after a moment's pause and heard the whisper as she left the room. "I love you."

Yang cried.

* * *

Taiyang came in twice a day to give Yang food, and he quickly realized that if he didn't stay and watch her eat, she wouldn't. Yang didn't want to eat. The food didn't taste like anything and water only wet her mouth, it didn't satisfy her. Nothing satisfied her. Yang could feel an unbearable pressure on her mind and she let it take her. It was all she could do. The only thing she wanted more than to go back to the way things were was to be alone. To not have Taiyang staring at her and feeding her, with that look that said, "I'm sorry I was a terrible father but I'm trying to be better," written across his face.

He didn't love her. He just felt guilty that she had gotten hurt. That when Summer had died, Yang had become the head of the household. He felt bad that Yang had the pressure of school, family, and just scraping by the fading light with what little money they had at the ripe age of five. Somehow the weight hadn't crushed her. But Taiyang saw it happening now and there wasn't anything he could do about. And Yang knew it. Because Yang knew that he didn't truly love her.

Qrow stopped by occasionally. He never said much anymore. All out of quick quips or snarky one-liners, apparently. Or maybe he needed someone else to say something first and Yang never said anything anymore. He had stopped reeking of alcohol recently and Yang wondered why until she noticed the bags under his eyes. They weren't the usual tiredness that Qrow had. These weren't from the drink. They were from something else. Yang couldn't help but compare them to her own eyes. The eyes of someone who couldn't sleep because they were too afraid of what they'd see.

Qrow kept leaving little toys and trinkets that Yang had used to play with on her windowsill. He kept reminding her of how things used to be. Before Beacon. Before Signal. Before even Summer had died and Yang hadn't gotten to play with toys anymore. Maybe he thought that reminding Yang of how things used to be would help. Maybe that's how he lived his life, wallowing in a past that could never truly be.

The reminders didn't help.

Ruby came in almost every day. She read stories to Yang or read the letters that she and Jaune were exchanging, though Yang could tell she was skipping certain parts. Ruby claimed that the remaining parts of JNPR wanted to write to her as well, but Yang couldn't write anymore. She wasn't ambidextrous so they had settled for talking through Ruby though Yang never gave anything more than, "I'm fine. Feeling better. Will be back in action soon."

She didn't mind lying to Jaune, Nora, and Ren.

Other times, Ruby wouldn't say anything at all. Just sit in silence with Yang, staring out the window. She was never up for the sunrise, but often watched it set with Yang, making comments about how pretty the sky looked on Patch. It had never looked the beautiful at Beacon.

Yang didn't agree.

Most of the time, Yang was alone with her thoughts. Sometimes, they weren't that bad. On her best days, Yang even thought about getting out of bed and walking around the house.

On her worst days, Yang couldn't move an inch if she wanted, lest she break something. Though maybe breaking something was exactly what she needed.

 _How could she run? How could she! After what I told her about my father. My mother abandoning me, Blake runs. After I show that I'm willing to give anything to try and protect her, she ran._ Yang felt the fire in her stomach that threatened to activate her semblance, but she pushed it away. She didn't need it. She wouldn't ever need it again. _Blake abandoned us like we meant nothing to her! After all we'd done for her. All we've risked for her, she just walks away like she couldn't care less._

A bird sat on the branch outside her window. A raven. Black with red eyes that shifted up and down Yang. The bird had been a common visitor. It liked to tap the glass on her window and caw aggressively at her. Most of the time she payed it no mind, but today the bird's interest seemed more intense. As if it was demanding her attention and that it would not be ignored.

 _And Ruby's going to leave any day now. She thinks she's quite but I heard her talking with Jaune. She's leaving too. Just like Blake. Just like Summer and Taiyang. Just like her mother._

Was she broken? Did Yang keep doing something wrong that caused people to run away from her? Could she not see what she was doing that made every one want to leave her? Yang felt the lump in her throat and she tried to swallow it but it persisted. The raven continued to eye her.

 _What did I do to deserve this? All of it. I've never done anything but give my heart to everyone and all they ever do is stomp on it._

Yang felt the tears running down her face and she clenched her jaw until it hurt. She could feel her semblance burning away the pain against her will and Yang wanted to punch the wall, break it open and fall out so her neck would snap and she would just _fucking die already_.

But she didn't.

Instead, she listened to Ruby packing up her things.

And, in the morning, she watched Ruby leave down the road with Jaune, Nora, and Ren.

She hadn't even said goodbye.

Nobody ever did.

Something tapped on Yang's window and she looked over. A raven, the same raven, was tap-tapping on her window. Yang tried to shoo it away, but the tapping only increased in insistence. It tapped for hours, until Yang heard Taiyang drop the breakfast he had made for Ruby and run past Yang's door. She saw him running down the road as fast as he could. After Ruby. Away from Yang.

He hadn't said goodbye either.

The raven tapped again and Yang met its eyes, a touch of familiar electricity running down her spine as she saw the intelligence behind them. The eyes of something that was more than just a bird.

"No."

The raven tapped a few more times and a smile seemed to creep across its beak as Yang pushed the window open to let it in.


	4. Ruby

_A/N: I appreciate those of you who read and reviewed so far.  
_

* * *

Ruby felt different.

There was something beneath the surface now. _Something_ that Ruby couldn't hope to describe but tried endlessly to. It was like someone had placed a layer of fire between her skin and her blood, but even that wasn't quite right. At first, it hurt. Ruby's whole body felt the heat and the burn of the flames. She could still function, but her muscles protested every movement and her mind stayed slow. But after about a week of being back home, the pain was gone. Instead, the fire was just _there_. Ready to be called upon at a moment's notice and burning endlessly inside her. Ruby had to wonder if that's how Yang's semblance felt.

Ruby sighed around her bagel and but kept munching at it as she watched Tiayang struggle to put together a chair he had just bought. The previous one had been broken in a heated retelling of Ruby's battle with Torchwick. Yang hadn't gotten any better in the past week. She never moved a muscle and barely said anything. Ruby had told her dad how worried she was about Yang, but he'd said that she just needed time and maybe it would be better if Ruby left her alone.

Ruby hadn't agreed with him and continued to read stories to Yang each day. It was just like when they were younger. Except Ruby was reading to the bedridden Yang instead of the other way around.

They were the same stories from when they were younger. One about a girl and three bears. One of a child on the way to her grandma's being stalked by a wolf. Ruby read through all her favorite books, and then all of Yang's favorites, and then those that were somewhere in the between. But eventually, Ruby stumbled across a book that she hadn't ever seen before and that she didn't remember: _Quicksilver_. She'd brought the book to her dad but he shrugged it off. "Lot's a books in this house, kiddo. You two always loved to read. Guess you didn't quite get 'em all when you were kids."

Ruby frowned and hummed her disagreement but didn't bother to push the issue further. She was almost positive this book was new, despite the physical age of the book itself. The pages were yellowed and frayed and it creaked and cracked as Ruby opened it to inspect what it could be about. She didn't want to accidentally read Yang a book about amputations or anything like that.

The Table of Contents wasn't much help. Just a list of names and pages. Maybe a book of short stories then? Ruby eyed the thickness of the book suspiciously. _A lot_ of short stories. An anthology perhaps. She flipped to the first name, a _Primus Argentus_ , and started reading.

It was a short story of a man who traveled the world for many years, fighting and killing Grimm. He was unmatched in skill and could readily fell any beast, even alphas in nearly one blow. Eventually, he grew tired of the hunt and started a family in a village at the base of a mountain. Standard stuff.

But it didn't end there. Long after the man had grown old and his children had children, a great Grimm dragon burst forth from the mountain, likely drawn by the earthquake that had destroyed one of the few cities several miles up the shoreline. The man saw the beast and a fire lit in his belly the like of which he hadn't felt in years. He called the beast down and battled with it. But this Grimm was so black that not even he could slay it. Perhaps it was his age and bones that were his ultimate downfall, but eventually, the man fell to his knees and the dragon swooped low to swallow him whole.

Just before the jaws snapped him up though, fire burst from his eyes, white fire. So hot and pure that the dragon was burned from existence, crying in fury as it was bested. But the ordeal had been too much for the man. He fell, at last defeated, not by the Grimm, but by powers he had held within himself for so many years without even knowing it.

The book said that those descended from this man always had silver eyes, and a few of them could even summon the power it named: _Wrath_. The brilliant fury of Light, so pure, so brutal that only those who's souls burned with the same intensity could hope to master and use the power without destroying themselves. Only those that held souls as pure as the fire they wielded could survive the flames.

Ruby shut the book and looked at herself in the mirror, a giddy electricity running up her spine as she felt the fire in her veins throb in response to her thoughts. _Wrath_.

* * *

She kept the book a secret from Taiyang and Qrow. Her dad didn't need to know that Ruby was reading about the powers that had overwhelmed her on the tower. He would just worry and think that she was filling her head with dreams of grandeur. Dreams that could get her killed. He would say, "Come on Rubes, it's just a book. How about we go walk around outside for a while?"

And Qrow. Ruby didn't know how he managed it, but he always seemed to find her hiding spot within minutes of entering the room. Sitting on the chest it was in. Leaning against the bookshelf it was on. Dropping his sword so that the hilt landed pointed towards the corner it hidden in. But Qrow never said anything if he knew about it. Instead, he just kept Ruby updated on what was happening in the world.

A safe zone had been established in Vale, though it was in constant threat of being overrun. The major governments had begun readying for war since Atlas seemed so keen on attacking innocents. Or at least, that's what they thought and messages couldn't get through fast enough to clear up the hysteria.

Without the CCT, contact between and within kingdoms was limited to paper and pen style writing. Not nearly fast enough to prevent war, but Qrow offered to take any letters that Ruby had to Vale with him considering how often he would be traveling between the two places. There wasn't anything she could do about the world from her bed, but Ruby thought of her friends still in Vale and her heart jumped. _Jaune, Nora, Ren. Were they okay? What about the other teams? Had they gone home?_

Ruby took him up on his offer and begin writing letters to the remnants of JNPR. They said that they were happy to hear she was okay, and hoped Yang was feeling alright too. Ruby didn't have the heart to tell them that Yang was struggling, so she just wrote what Yang said, that she would be back in action soon.

Jaune told her that the other teams had been pulled back to their respective kingdoms. Tensions were high in the city and there weren't enough hunters to protect the safe zone. But they had been lucky so far; the Grimm were far too focused on the dragon at Beacon Tower to bother much with the city. No one really understood why, and with food and water shortages running rampant, no one really cared as long as the Grimm didn't focus on them.

Other than that though, everything seemed to be as okay as they could be. Jaune claimed that Ren and Nora were doing alright, but he never mentioned himself or how he was doing in the letters. Apparently some couples that had been rumored had come out after the attack, fearing that they would lose each other in the heat of the moment and proclaiming their love aloud. Ruby thought about telling Jaune what Pyrrha had told her a few weeks ago, but thought better of opening that wound.

The letters were nice, but it still stung when Ruby couldn't include Pyrrha's name on the recipients list. Or ask how she was. And she always cried when Jaune signed the cards: _Love, JNPR_ , despite the fact that their team was no longer complete. Maybe it was his way of showing that she hadn't been forgotten.

Not a day went by that Ruby didn't think of Pyrrha. Of the wind blowing away the dust that she had become seconds before the Wrath. Of the arrow sticking out of her chest and the gasps of air escaping Pyrrha's lips before she had gone quiet. Sometimes, Ruby thought she heard Pyrrha say her name, and ask her why she hadn't been faster. Why she hadn't saved her. But Ruby knew it was her imagination. It was her nightmares trying to make her feel worse for something that was out of her control. She had done what she could and couldn't change what happened. It didn't mean she was happy about it, but Ruby had learned a long time ago that destroying yourself over something that you couldn't change and that had never truly been in your control wasn't what anyone wanted. Pyrrha would have wanted her to feel happy. So she tried her best. For Pyrrha.

Correspondence between JNPR and Ruby had started innocent enough, but as time went on, Ruby could tell that they wanted more. They wanted to avenge Pyrrha and make it so her sacrifice wasn't for nothing. Ruby was hesitant to agree with them, unsure of how they might even go about doing it, but as she read more and more of _Quicksilver_ , it became apparent that there was nothing else that she could do besides pursue the villains. Nothing else that Pyrrha would have wanted.

All the stories in the book were the same, more or less. The silver-eyed huntsmen and huntresses lived lives of daring and danger, slaying more Grimm than anyone else could ever dream. And when they died, it was always against some monstrous beast that they took to the grave with their final breath. Sometimes, they died young. Other times, like with Primus, they died when they were ancient. But they always died in the end.

These warriors weren't like others. They inspired confidence so easily. Everything came naturally to them. They fought the darkness and beat it back so far that Grimm attacks worldwide often decreased shortly after their deaths, as if the light that burned within them could beat back the edges of the darkness that so commonly overtook the world. They were everything Ruby wanted to be.

Before she knew it, Ruby was on the last chapter of the book. She hadn't bothered to read the Table of Contents to see who it would be about because she hadn't wanted to confuse herself with names. It was bad enough when half the people in the book had names she couldn't pronounce, she didn't need to mix up their stories as well.

 _Summer Rose:_

Ruby felt her breath catch and her heart race. _Mom_. She started reading without a second thought:

 _Summer Rose, one of the most legendary of all warriors. It was said that she could fell an entire forest of Beowulf in minutes and slay Goliaths in just three swings of her mighty weapon. Such a brilliant light that never yielded for the darkness and always welcomed any who asked for its forgiveness, it is a wonder that it wasn't snuffed out sooner by The Mother. But, stories must not begin from the middle or end._

 _Summer Rose was born a poor girl on the island of Patch, just outside the walls of the city Vale. She grew up in constant fear of the Grimm attacking her village, and one day, her fears were realized. Grimm took her father from her before a team of huntsmen came from seemingly nowhere and fended off the beasts. It was then that Summer decided she would become one of them. One of the warriors of the Light._

 _The training was difficult though, and it left its mark on her before she had graduated from Beacon academy in the form of a Beowulf claw being dragged across her face. She had yet to discover her Wrath when it happened, but her partner, Raven Branwen, fended off the beast before it could get the rest of Summer, leaving her with sight in only one eye and a horrible scar instead._

 _Her weapon-_

Ruby flipped the page eagerly, but found only the index of the book. She flipped the page back and forth several times, the paper nearly ripping before she saw the tear marks in the binding of the book. Someone had taken Summer's section out of it

Ruby groaned in annoyance and fell backwards onto her bed. That was the closest she had ever come to knowing anything about Summer. She knew the standard stuff, what Yang and her dad would tell her, of course. But Yang didn't know anything about Mom's missions and Dad always said he didn't want to talk about it whenever Ruby brought it up. Seconds from learning more about her mother than she had ever known, and it had been snatched away from her.

But Ruby knew what she had to do. She had silver eyes. She had the Wrath. She could freeze Grimm and probably burn them away just like the people in those stories. Deep down, Ruby knew they weren't just legends and stories. The fire under her skin told her so. The dragon frozen on Beacon Tower told her so. Every fiber of her being told Ruby that there was something bigger and badder than that Grimm and that she was supposed to find it, and hopefully end it.

* * *

Correspondence to JNPR became more frequent after that night. She told them about how Qrow had revealed that something was in Haven. Something that was likely related to who had destroyed Beacon. Who had killed Pyrrha. They wanted to leave immediately but Ruby convinced them to wait for her. A few weeks at least. They agreed. They needed a fourth and they weren't about to let Ruby go after this alone.

Ruby thought about letting Yang know. Telling Yang all about her eyes and what they meant. What she could do. But she didn't. Yang didn't really seem like she was interested in hearing about Ruby. Or anything really. All she ever did was stare out her window. Sometimes Ruby heard her crying at night or in the morning when Yang thought everyone was asleep. Other times she heard something tapping against the glass even though it wasn't windy. Ruby didn't interrupt when she heard anything coming from Yang's room.

Slowly, Ruby started getting her energy back. It took longer than Ruby would have liked, the trail in Haven likely getting colder everyday she wasn't there investigating it, but Ruby knew she couldn't rush healing. As much as she wanted to get going and leave, her Aura couldn't heal what the Wrath had done to her.

But, suddenly, one day, Crescent Rose was light enough for her to swing wildly again. And the recoil didn't knock her off her feet unless she wanted it to. It hadn't even been gradual. It was as if a switch had been flipped and Ruby was feeling 100% again. The pure excitement and exhilaration of using Crescent Rose again nearly brought Ruby to tears and she shot through the forest, cutting trees and imaginary Grimm alike.

Taiyang stopped her after she came back late. He asked her how she was doing? Better, he hoped, if she was running around the woods after sundown. She knew how dangerous it could be after dark.

Ruby wiped the sweat off her forehead and smiled. "I feel great Dad! I can't wait to get back out there."

The smile on Taiyang's face faltered and shifted into more of a nervous grimace. "Don't you think it's a little early to be thinking about that? You did good at Beacon, kiddo. You deserve a break for a little while at least."

Ruby felt her stomach flip-flop. Dad didn't want her leaving. "Nah, I'll be alright. Come on Dad, you used to be a huntsman. Wouldn't you want to go back out there?" Ruby saw her father's face glass over and a shadow of something nearly forgotten cross it.

"Well, why do you think I'm not one anymore?"

The conversation had ended there when Taiyang had turned and gone inside.

Ruby followed him, but cut to her room instead of following him to the living room. She could tell that he wanted to be alone. As soon as she reached her bed, Ruby flopped onto it and let out a disgruntled sigh. Her dad wouldn't let her leave yet. He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. He hadn't heard what Qrow had said. He hadn't read what she'd read. Ruby thought for a moment and took out a piece of paper and began writing:

 _Dear Jaune, Nora, Ren:_

 _What do you think about coming to visit-_

* * *

As it turned out, Jaune was the only one who could come and see Ruby. Though Nora and Ren wanted to, they had duties to act as sentries to the safe zone in Vale that they couldn't abandon on such short notice.

It was late when Ruby and Jaune started talking. _Really_ talking. Long after Taiyang and Qrow had gone to sleep. Ruby didn't know if Yang was asleep, but she was pretty sure that even if she wasn't, she wouldn't be able to hear them anyway.

"So do you think your dad will let you go?" Jaune tried to keep his voice low but it was clear that he suffered from the same whispering disorder that Yang did, meaning he couldn't.

Ruby shook her head and sighed, "Ugh, no I don't think so. He's too worried. He's gunna want me to stay here for a little while longer. I don't know how long though."

"I guess that's fair." Ruby saw Jaune nod his head and saw him look down the hall, towards where Yang's room was. She hadn't responded earlier when Ruby had knocked. Jaune looked back at Ruby and though he was trying to hide his disappointment, it was clear as day.

Ruby stood up and started pacing. "I mean, yeah, I guess it is. But we gotta get to Haven. The people who attacked Beacon could be planning something even worse right now! More people could get hurt! Like Penny. Or like…"

Heavy silence fell between the two as Ruby felt her stomach twisting and turning. She hadn't said the name but it was clear who she meant. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes and Ruby sat back down, the weight of her words too much for her.

Jaune broke the silence, his voice cracking and weak, "Do you think about her a lot?"

Ruby didn't ask who he was talking about.

"Yeah."

"Me too."

Ruby walked over to where Jaune was sitting on Yang's old bed and took a seat next to him. She paused for a second before she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. A silent understanding passed between them and Jaune put his head on top of Ruby's. Unspoken remorse passed between the two through the contact. That they'd never thought Pyrrha would be gone. That none of this seemed real. That, if they both woke up back at Beacon, neither would be surprised, but that they weren't expecting to anytime soon. Ruby felt a tightness in her throat and tears threatened to free themselves from her eyes.

"Did I tell you that she kissed me?"

Ruby shook her head. The tears fell out and she let out a sob that attempted to disguise itself as a laugh, "Took you two long enough." Another choked laugh broke out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Jaune let out a sigh. A sigh of regret that said more than Jaune ever could. It told Ruby that he might have known that Pyrrha wanted that for them, but he'd ignored it because he hadn't believed himself. And now she was gone. "Yeah."

Silence.

Ruby took a breath and unwrapped herself from Jaune, wiping her eyes as she stood up and moved over to her own bed. She felt a pit in her stomach as the words came out of her mouth, "My dad is never awake early in the morning. If you guys show up next weekend, I should be able to sneak out before he knows and we can get pretty far before anyone would even know."

Jaune looked up at her, a sort of sad determination in his eyes. "You sure?"

Ruby nodded. "Yeah."

"What about Yang, or Weiss and Blake?"

Ruby cast her eyes down. "I-I don't think Yang will be coming. She's, uh, still kinda in a bad spot." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jaune nodding his understanding. "And I don't know where Blake is and Weiss hasn't responded to my letter yet, so I don't think they'll be tagging along either."

Ruby felt her voice hitch at the end of her sentence. Team RWBY was just as broken as Team JNPR.

"Guess we'll have to think up a new Team name on our own then."

"Yeah, we will."

* * *

Faster than Ruby thought possible, it was Saturday morning. She'd said goodbye to her dad in her own way last night, and Qrow hadn't shown up for his usual Friday visit, but there was nothing she could do about that.

Ruby tried to gather her things as quietly as possible, and managed not to make a complete racket in doing so. Not that it mattered much. Both Yang and Dad were heavy sleepers. Nothing short of the most severe thunderstorms would wake them up.

Regardless, Ruby still tiptoed her way down the hall. She had nearly reached the end when Yang flashed through her mind. Her sister. Her best friend. Though it could blow the whole mission, she retreated back down the hall and knocked against Yang's door.

"Yang?"

There wasn't a response, so Ruby pressed her ear against the door, hoping to hear Yang snoring. But she didn't, instead, she only heard a sharp _tap-tap_ of something against the window. Ruby didn't know why, but Yang never seemed to hear anything when that tapping was there.

"Yang?" She was louder this time, almost full volume. Surely loud enough for Yang to hear, but a response didn't come. Ruby sighed and felt her throat get tight. The note on her bed would have to be enough for now. There wasn't that much time before her dad woke up and Ruby needed to be as close to Haven as possible when that happened.

Ruby took a deep breath and walked down the hallway, making sure to ruffle Zwei's ears on her way out.

The fire in her blood flared with excitement as she unlocked the door and saw what remained of team JNPR standing there.

They had a long day ahead of them.

* * *

 _A/N: Drop a favorite or review if you liked it. Thanks for reading._


	5. Jaune

_A/N: Guess it didn't feel right to make a remorse fic without Jaune. This is the actual last chapter this time. Hope you enjoy it._

* * *

The training ring at Beacon was nothing to write home about. In fact, it wasn't even worth mentioning. The octagon was marked only by the 8 strips of duct tape on the matted floor. Rumor had it that Glynda had gotten tired of paying for repairs on the actual ring and had decided that tape was the next best option. Maybe a few more kids would get hurt, but it could save thousands of lien in contractors, especially since Nora and Yang's matches usually left _something_ broken. At least now it wouldn't be the ring itself.

Jaune couldn't tell if anyone else was in the gym since the lights beyond the octagon seemed to be out, but he was kind of grateful. It was difficult to train with other people around.

He was in his workout clothes, a baggy T-shirt that read _Got Muscle?_ in blocky white letters and a pair of sweatpants that were a size too small. Crocea Mors was held loosely in his right hand and his shield was strapped tightly to his left arm. Their weight brought a familiar sort of comfort to Jaune as he rotated his arms and stretched. The way that Crocea went from thick to thin and then back to thick at the tip so his strikes would have just a little extra force towards the end of his blade. The uneven distribution of weight his mother's shield had from the countless dings and bends left from endless years of combat, almost none of which were from Jaune's time with it. The three of them were like a group of old friends that could go years without conversing and then fall back into the same habits all over again, as if nothing had changed.

"Jaune, are you okay?" Pyrrha called from the opposite side the octagon, readying her own sword and shield. She was dressed in her normal exercise attire as well. Sweatpants but no top beyond a dark red sports bra that was trimmed with gold. She said that it was easier to move when her shoulders weren't covered. Jaune wasn't sure if he believed her, or if she just liked watching him try not to stare. She was breathtaking.

"Uh, yeah, give me a-" Jaune could barely bring up his sword in time to block Pyrrha's strike and deflect it to the ground, but he wasn't strong enough to stand tough as she whipped around and slammed her shield into his.

Jaune stumbled away from the hit, the pain intense as it rolled up his arm and caught in his elbow. But Pyrrha was on him before he could even recover his stance, putting her shield underneath his to raise it and expose his chest, thrusting her sword forward as if to skewer him.

But the sword merely caught his shirt as Jaune danced under the shields and managed to swing his sword in a horizontal arc, aiming so that it would cut her in half if it connected. But Pyrrha was fast, she dropped her weight and her back hit the padded floor a whole second before Jaune's sword even cut the air where she had been. And by the time it was just past the air where she had been, Pyrrha had flipped onto her feet and landed a heavy kick square in the middle of Jaune's stomach.

The weight of the impact sent Jaune stumbling and he fell backwards, using the energy of the kick to continue into a backwards roll and onto his feet, low to the ground and ready for the assault that Pyrrha had, undoubtedly, launched already.

But she hadn't. Pyrrha had moved back to the center of the ring and was wearing a gentle smile. "Don't let enemies get inside your guard and don't be afraid to fight dirty." Jaune could see the slight sheen of sweat breaking out across her skin but her breathing was still even, unlike Jaune who was breathing heavily, already feeling the weight of his sword and shield far more than he should have for that short interaction.

They must have already been training for a while, though, for some reason, Jaune couldn't remember how long.

* * *

 _A man walked up to Jaune. He was hunched over and smelled strongly of alcohol. Other than that, the only way Jaune could describe him was 'prickly.' As if every movement made the man flinch and that he was ready to either run, or kill at a moment's notice._

 _Despite that, the man had a sense of familiarity to him. Maybe Jaune had seen him around the fairgrounds. Or maybe he'd been walking around with Ruby on campus. Jaune wasn't really sure and he didn't really care honestly. He knew what the man was about to tell him. He had felt it. It had been like a candle being blow out in the back of his mind._

 _"You Jaune Arc?" His voice was raspy and he slurred Jaune's name slightly, making the –aune, more of a –aunearc. The man's eyes found Jaune's and Jaune couldn't help but notice the exhaustion in his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in years._

 _"Yeah." Jaune stood up. He knew he wouldn't be standing long. Hearing it would knock him down. But it didn't feel right to be sitting. He didn't know why._

 _The man offered his hand, and Jaune took it. The man's grip was firm but he didn't crush Jaune's hand, despite the lack of energy Jaune committed to the ceremony. "Qrow." The man paused, a look of somber memory crossing his mind. "I'm the one who recovered Ruby from the tower."_

 _Jaune didn't know what to say, so he didn't reply._

 _Qrow pulled something out from behind him. It was a bronze circlet, two chains ending in small emeralds wrapped around the peaks of the band. He held it for a second, and then offered it to Jaune. "I figured you might want this."_

 _The circlet was lighter than Jaune thought it would be, though he wasn't surprised. Pyrrha wasn't about to weigh herself down with unnecessary items. That wasn't like her. He felt the tears in his eyes, but before they could escape, Jaune blinked them away. "Did she put up a fight?"_

 _Jaune heard a raspy laugh, low and almost fake. "From the looks of it, she nearly won."_

 _Something tugged at Jaune's face, maybe a smile. But he wasn't sure and he didn't bother to say anything. There wasn't anything he could say._

 _A hand hit his shoulder and Jaune nearly fell to his knees. They were weaker than he realized. "I'm sorry, kid. She didn't deserve that."_

 _"I know."_

* * *

Jaune stood up straight and took a few steps toward the center, towards Pyrrha. "Okay," he breathed. It was his turn to attack. That's just the way it worked. She went, then he did, and then they both went at 100% until one of them yielded. Or, Jaune went at as hard as he could for as long as Pyrrha felt like toying with him.

But that wasn't much of a deterrent. Pyrrha was the number one ranked teenager in all of Remnant after all. She was nice enough to take time and train him and straighten out the rough edges that Jaune had. She always said that a good house needed good foundation, and that she was just pouring the concrete. It was up to him to make sure it set properly.

Not to mention the fact that Jaune enjoyed sparing with Pyrrha. He was feeling better already. His arms weren't as heavy and his breathing wasn't ragged anymore. He felt like a whole new person, ready for more, despite the bite of confusion her felt at the back of his mind. They hadn't been on break for _that_ long had they?

Pyrrha kept her eyes on Jaune as he began circling her, but didn't bother to change her stance so she could face him, even though he fully circled her several times. She knew she was fast enough and Jaune knew she knew she was fast enough. But it was a test. Maybe this time he could be. Maybe this time, he was. Jaune didn't have a chance of beating Pyrrha if he played the game the way she did. That was just a fact. So he wouldn't.

The half second in which Pyrrha shifted her eyes from over her right shoulder to over her left was when Jaune stepped forward and feinted left, but twisted his blade at the last second to cut her right side. The metal of his sword screeched as Pyrrha twisted and reversed her grip, the stab sliding harmlessly along her blade and away from her ribs.

Jaune felt the firmness of Pyrrha's block falter, and he barely had time to turn and bring up his shield to block Pyrrha's from striking his head. The energy of the blow ran up his arm, and his shoulder screamed in pain, but Jaune pressed his advantage. Pyrrha had jumped to attack him like that and now had to land and reset her stance, giving him an opening.

Their blades and shields clashed a few more times, Jaune's strikes heavy and meant to keep Pyrrha unbalanced, and Pyrrha's quick and meant mostly to deflect as she steadied herself. Though he tried to prevent it, Pyrrha regained steady footing within seconds and their blades locked perpendicularly, leaving Jaune on top of the encounter. Sparks hissed free from the metal of Pyrrha's blade as it dragged across Jaune's and he had to fight not to flinch as they jumped towards his face.

A breath passed while their blades slid off each other and they both worked to maneuver the stance to their favor. Pyrrha was undoubtedly stronger than Jaune and would have normally thrown him free instantly, but Jaune had managed to position himself such that his blade was pressing down on Pyrrha's. Using his height to his advantage.

Pyrrha took a step back and Jaune moved to follow her, pushing her closer to the edge of the ring, but as soon as his foot left the ground, Pyrrha heaved upwards. The blades disconnected and Jaune felt his guard break and a leg behind his own a fraction of a second before it swept him and the hilt of Pyrrha's sword hit the center of his chest, sending him to the floor.

Jaune gasped for breath as a he heard a laugh and Pyrrha's hand came into his vision. "Nice try, but don't overextend your position. Hold an opponent where you want them. Don't let them control the encounter." A pause, "And there's no need for trickery when the enemy can't even see what you're doing." How had she known he'd feinted behind her back?

Jaune took her hand and used it as leverage to pull himself up. Pyrrha was smiling warmly at him.

* * *

 _"Mr. Arc, would you mind staying for a moment longer?"_

 _Ren and Nora looked at him, indicating they would wait for him with a signal the four of them had developed after the first few times. A quick motion that combined a hand sign and head nod. Not noticeable if you weren't looking for it, but clear as day if you were._

 _Jaune sat back down and looked at Professor Goodwitch, Oobleck, and Port. They all looked exhausted. Heavy bags sat under Goodwitch and Port's eyes, and for the first time ever, Oobleck wasn't shouting. His voice had been quiet, like someone deathly afraid of startling something. Or someone for that matter._

 _None of them said anything for a minute so Jaune decided to break the silence. "Um, did you need something, Professors?"_

 _Goodwitch looked at him. Jaune could see the concern on her face but he tried to ignore it. "Mr. Arc, we know that Miss Nikos was your partner and that you two were rather close. If you need anything or if you would like to-"_

 _"I'm fine." Jaune felt something sour in his mouth as the words escaped him._

 _Port took a step forward and placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder, "My good man, surely you must be feeling something?"_

 _Jaune shook his head as he felt something catching on his throat. He tried to swallow it but it nearly choked him on the way down. "Nope. Pyrrha died like a hero. Like a true huntress. It's what she would have wanted. You know, destiny, or whatever."_

 _"Mr. Arc, I must say that in all my time at the academy I have never once had a student as magnificent as Miss Nikos was." Oobleck sipped something from a cup he was holding but frowned at the taste and held it up to the light as if to check it. "You should be proud to have been her partner."_

 _Past tense._

 _The thing in Jaune's throat was getting harder and harder to swallow and his breathing was getting tighter. "Can I go now? I'm kinda tired," His voice caught and hitched on the last word and Jaune silently cursed himself._

 _There was a pause of somber silence before Goodwitch dismissed him. Jaune stood up and tried to ignore the concerned whispers he heard as he shut the door behind him._

* * *

They had reset again. But Jaune felt better than he had at the start of the last round. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Jaune felt so alive. The air was so clean and his vision could probably cut Pyrrha it was so sharp. It felt so good to be here. To be training and fighting with Pyrrha.

Both of them took steps forward and their blades clashed together and were quickly pulled apart to reassess the situation. Jaune could see that his new energy had surprised Pyrrha, so instead of giving her a second to breathe, he pushed the offensive.

But this time was different. Each breath he took and step of his foot was full of _something_. Jaune couldn't tell what, but it invigorated him. He felt it rushing through him and his strikes and suddenly he was able to keep up with Pyrrha. There weren't any last second blocks that nearly broke his guard. His sword never simply bounced away; each strike led to a solid connection and none of Pyrrha's rattled his bones like they normally did.

Jaune sucked his stomach in and jumped back from a horizontal slash and smiled at Pyrrha, "I'm doing pretty well dontcha think, Pyrrha?" Bragging like that would often result in Pyrrha making him submit within seconds, but Jaune wasn't sure that would happen this time. That it could happen this time. He still felt as if they hadn't just traded blows though he could see Pyrrha was breathing and sweating heavily now.

Pyrrha flipped her grip on her sword so that the blade was pointing up her arm and let a thin smile break through. "You've improved a lot since we started training together." Not a direct admission of how well he was doing, but Jaune would take it. Given how rarely his ego got stroked it was nice to receive a compliment every once in a while.

Pyrrha came at him and he blocked the strike and returned one of his own. He might be doing well, but she wasn't even using her semblance, one of most prominent pieces of her skill. Her signature power. She'd told him that when he was ready, she would start using it. That it wouldn't be fair for her to manipulate his metal when he could barely control it himself.

But suddenly, his sword was a fraction of an inch off and his shield lower than where it should have been. And Jaune was feeling the effects. Pyrrha's strikes kept coming dangerously close to his skin and any retaliations he made missed by a mile instead of the inches he had earned earlier.

Jaune thought he was tiring for a second, but then he felt it. The gentle tug of his sword away from Pyrrha. The pull of his shield not wanting to be raised. And he saw the slight black tinge that hovered around edges of his equipment. Pyrrha was finally doing it, she was using her semblance! A surge of electricity ran up Jaune's spine as he thought of what that meant for him as a fighter. As a huntsman.

The excitement of the moment nearly caused Jaune to miss a block, but he redoubled his efforts before the energy escaped him. He raised his shield higher and twisted his blade as he swung it to deter Pyrrha's influence as best he could. And he felt her fighting the motions with her semblance. The pressure of the magnetism controlling the metal increased until Jaune was just barely able to move fast enough to match Pyrrha, but he fought on, the fire in his stomach keeping him standing.

But, without warning, the nigh-overwhelming pressure was gone and Jaune overcompensated wildly with one of his swings, and felt another one of Pyrrha's kicks hit his chest as his guard was broken. He managed not to fall over this time, but had barely recovered when he heard the _bang_ of a gunshot and felt rather than saw the red streak aimed directly for his head. Pyrrha's spear penetrated his shield as the weapon screamed in agony as it sped through his shield and came to a rest and inch from Jaune's nose.

A heartbeat passed before Jaune felt his shield arm twist out of his control as Pyrrha grabbed her spear and yanked it so Jaune's guard was wide open. She deflected the wild swing he sent towards her head and slammed the edge of her shield into his chest, sending him to the floor. Pyrrha quickly followed and placed a knee on each of the two pressure points just above his elbows, pinning his arms and using her weight to ensure that he couldn't move his hips to throw her off. Jaune was pinned.

Pyrrha had won.

A moment passed where they both stayed still, feeling each other's heat through their clothes and taking in the other's breath. Jaune felt something flutter in his stomach and a certain type of heat rise to his face as Pyrrha placed her hands on either side of his head and leaned down so that their mouths were only inches apart.

"You fought well."

* * *

 _Somebody tapped Jaune's shoulder and he looked up from his rations. Today, they were rehydrated macaroni and cheese. Or maybe it was supposed to be some sort of Alfredo dish. Jaune couldn't really tell what it was supposed to taste like beyond the old sock flavor._

 _Nora waved her hand as if to snap him out of a thought. "Hey Jaune." Ren was standing beside her. He nodded a greeting instead of saying anything._

 _"Hey guys, you can sit if you'd like." Jaune motioned to the other side of the table, indicating that there was no one sitting in the empty seats. Then again, they probably already knew that._

 _Both of them sat down, but Jaune couldn't help to notice the fact that neither of them had food. Nora spoke first, "Jaune, you haven't really talked to anyone or said anything since what happened last Friday, and we're just kinda worried about you. We're your teammates and we want to be there for you, but we can't, you know, be there if you don't let us. You know?"_

 _Rend nodded his agreement, "We were her teammates too."_

 _Jaune tasted the bitterness of bile in his mouth and he felt heat rise to his face. "I don't know why everyone thinks that I'm not okay. Pyrrha died like a hero. Why would I be upset about that?" That something in his throat was back and Jaune tried to shovel some food in his mouth to force it down but it stayed put as the tasteless mush slid past it and to his stomach._

 _Jaune saw Nora's face get red and he nearly felt the heat of the comment she was about to fire back, but Ren stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking his head. A silent conversation occurred between the two of them and Nora deflated. The two of them were so in synch with each other's emotions. Jaune had been envious of that connection between partners for a long time. He'd wished for something similar with Pyrrha._

 _"Jaune," Ren's voice was low and filled with something that was unmistakably pity, "Pyrrha was our friend and teammate too. We understand how you're feeling. We're feeling it too"_

 _Did they? Did they really? Because Jaune didn't think they did. Like they could. Pyrrha had been their friend. Not their partner. Their souls hadn't been mashed together with Pyrrha's in the Emerald Forest. They hadn't felt the warmth of Pyrrha's forgiveness after he had blown her off when he'd revealed he'd cheated his way into Beacon. They hadn't come to think of Pyrrha as a mentor, a partner, and a friend. Or maybe even more than a friend._

 _They didn't know what he was feeling. They didn't have the overwhelming sensation that they were_ wrong _now. That a fundamental part of who they were was gone. A pillar on which Jaune had built so much in the past year had disappeared overnight and now he could feel himself shaking and about to collapse because it was gone. Because she was gone. They couldn't know what that was like._

 _"Yeah, alright." Jaune sighed. He motioned with his fork to his rations, which were almost gone. "Can I just eat?"_

 _Ren and Nora shared a look before standing up. Ren put something on the table but Jaune didn't want to look at it while they were still there. "We'll be here when you need us, Jaune."_

 _They walked away and Jaune struggled for a moment before looking at the thing Ren and had placed on the table. It was a photo that had been taken by Ruby a few weeks after initiation in the library. Nora was asleep next to Ren, who was buried in a pile of thick books written in a language that Jaune couldn't understand. Jaune himself was in the middle of falling over, having tripped over nothing and his books were hanging suspended in the air; moments from drawing the librarian's attention for the obscene amount of noise they were about to create._

 _And Pyrrha was waving at the camera, a bright and warm smile on her face._

 _Jaune made sure his tears didn't stain the photo._

* * *

Jaune didn't remember showering and getting back to the dorm. Nor could he remember why Nora and Ren were missing. He didn't think they had homework, and they preferred to study in the room anyway. Judging from the pitch black outside the window it was way too late for them to be getting dinner too. It was strange, but Jaune pushed the strangeness away as he felt Pyrrha's fingers run through his hair.

She was sitting and Jaune had laid so that his head was resting on her lap and his feet were dangling off the edge of his bed. This wasn't something they had done before, but for some reason it just felt right. Jaune could smell the sweet syrup scent of Pyrrha's perfume and he hoped that she couldn't feel his heart hammering away in his chest.

"You did well today, Jaune." Pyrrha looked down at him and smiled wide enough that she had to squint her eyes a bit, creating a few wrinkles that Jaune thought made her look even more beautiful. "Looks like Team Jaune is doing alright after all."

Jaune _pshd!_ her and made a dismissive motion with his hand despite the embarrassment creeping onto his face for what he'd said all the way back during orientation. "Oh come on, I nearly beat you this time. Admit it, you're afraid that I'll actually beat you one of these times."

Pyrrha hummed as something crossed across her face that Jaune couldn't quite identify before it passed. "Perhaps."

Jaune swallowed a lump in his throat. "Oh come on, tomorrow for sure."

Pyrrha let out a heavy sigh and tapped Jaune's shoulder. He took it to mean she wanted to stand up, so he shifted so he was sitting and Pyrrha rose to her feet, turning to face him. Her face was set with a type of determination that Jaune had only ever seen when she was fighting. A solid look that revealed nothing but the stone of a seasoned warrior. "Jaune."

That voice was only reserved for when Pyrrha wanted to be serious. _Really_ serious. "What's up?" Jaune felt his voice waver but he tried to keep it as even as he could. As team leader, he had to be the rock others could lean on. And if Pyrrha had something to tell him, he couldn't let her down.

A half smile, half grimace broke out across Pyrrha's face. "You know that we can't train tomorrow."

They couldn't? Did they have a test tomorrow or something? Jaune couldn't remember.

Pyrrha placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "No tests."

How'd she known what he was thinking? And why was the room so out of focus? And why was the lump in Jaune's throat so unbearably thick all of a sudden? It felt like he was trying to swallow an orange whole.

Pyrrha's other hand pressed against Jaune's other shoulder. "Jaune." Her voice pressed against his mind and everything seemed to waver in and out of focus before it came back to a rest.

They weren't in the dorm anymore. They weren't really anywhere. Jaune could tell he was on something solid but when he looked, nothing was supporting him. Clouds seemed to drift by and Jaune could see things in them. People like him the rest of JNPR shouting over a board game they were playing on the floor of their dorm. Places like the destroyed whack-a-mole machine at the fairgrounds. Vague ideas he had one time but never thought about again. And somehow, Jaune could see things like the smell of Nora's dirty laundry or the taste of Ren's pancakes. Wild assortments of colors and ideas that fell apart on inspection, but when looked at as a whole, just seemed _right._ Memories. Jaune was looking at his memories.

He was dreaming.

"I-" Jaune coughed and wiped away the tears that were forming in his eyes. It had all been so real. He hadn't even realized. "I guess that's why I did so well today."

Pyrrha laughed and a cloud floated by, the golden ribbons inside being crossed by a bow made from nothing less than the finest of horse hairs as the sound hit Jaune's ears. "Well, if you want to look at it that way, I suppose that _is_ why."

A storm cloud that whispered insults passed by as Jaune felt the comment slide over him. It wasn't meant to be mean, and if anyone else had said it, Jaune was sure the cloud would have been bigger. He looked at Pyrrha. He didn't know what to say. It had all been so _real_. It had felt just like how things used to be. How they were _supposed_ to be.

Pyrrha got onto her knees and pulled Jaune into a tight hug, nearly crushing him. He didn't return the gesture but he saw a pink cloud floated by. "Oh, Jaune." Pyrrha's voice wasn't any louder than a whisper. "I really am sorry."

A breath passed where Jaune felt the anger. The unbridled rage of loss that boiled his blood and made him want to throw himself free of Pyrrha and storm away. To scream unforgivable things and to wake up so that he'd never have to see her again. But it was just a second and after the rage had passed, Jaune returned the hug, putting his head on Pyrrha's shoulder and closing his eyes.

"Why'd you do it then?"

Pyrrha tried to pull away from the hug, but Jaune didn't budge, so she returned to her position. Her grip around him wasn't as tight this time, leaving him room to breathe. "You know that there's no one else who could have done what I did. Who could have held her as long as I did."

Jaune felt the tears on his face. He hadn't realized they were even forming. "But, Professor Goodwitch or Ironwood or…" He trailed off. Jaune wasn't sure if he could name anyone else. "Anyone." Ozpin floated by in a cloud, smiling at him and reminding him that Jaune had been picked to be leader for as good a reason as any.

"There wasn't any time to get them Jaune." Pyrrha tried to pull away again and Jaune let her this time. She had that sad smile on her face that she only wore when she was trying to comfort him. "How many people could have gotten hurt if that woman had been left to her devices without interruption?"

Jaune shrugged and looked away as a puffy yellow cloud floated by and he saw all his sisters and family waving goodbye and good luck to him. "I dunno. But you wouldn't have."

Cool leather pressed softly against Jaune's face as Pyrrha wiped away his tears. "You don't know that. You know what being a hunter is all about Jaune. The life of one-"

"Who gives it willingly in service of the Light is the spark with which the fires of survival are lit." Jaune finished the phrase. It had been the first question on the first test given by Professor Oobleck. They'd studied the longer poem version of the Hunter's Oath extensively together. "But why'd it have to be you?"

Pyrrha tipped Jaune's head so that they were eye to eye. Another pink cloud floated by. "There isn't a single version of me who wouldn't do what I did Jaune. I'm sorry, but it was the only option I had."

Something untwisted in Jaune's stomach as he heard the words. He knew it was true. The Pyrrha he knew wouldn't let anything get in the way of her destiny. Not even an unwinnable fight. "It's not the same without you. Nothing seems real anymore. It's like I'm walking through a dream and I'm expecting to wake up and be running late to a test, or something. It feels like I'm watching my body live out a life that I'm not experiencing if that makes any sense. Like I'm not in control of what I'm doing or feeling anymore." Jaune didn't think it made much sense but Pyrrha nodded in understanding.

"It will be difficult Jaune." She pulled him into another hug. "But you will get better. It might not help to hear, but give it time, and you'll get better. Talk with Nora and Ren. With the Professors. They want to help you and I think you know that you need them." Pyrrha pulled away from the hug and they were looking into each other's eyes again. "And your teammates need you. Their leader."

Jaune felt the tears coming this time, but he let them fall. "I don't want to say goodbye."

Pyrrha smiled and placed a hand on his chest, a red glow appearing around her. "It is in passing we achieve immortality, Jaune. I will always be with you so long as you don't forget me."

The dreamscape started melting at the edges and Pyrrha began fading away, turning transparent and washing away. Jaune wrapped his hands around Pyrrha's arm. "I won't. None of us will."

Something brushed against his lips and Jaune felt a whisper in his ear, but he couldn't quite tell what it was as Pyrrha faded away and blackness set in.

* * *

Jaune opened his eyes. It was morning. People were rushing about the makeshift refugee shelter doing this and that while thoroughly ignoring Jaune.

A hand touched his shoulder and Jaune looked to find Ren kneeling next to him. "You were crying."

Jaune nodded his head a few times. "Yeah, I, uh-" He wiped away the tears and sat up. "Just had a nice dream is all."

Ren nodded and looked as if he was about to step away before Jaune caught his arm. "Um, I know we have wall duty today, but would you guys mind talking about-" Jaune felt the word catch in his throat but he swallowed it, "about Pyrrha, and what happened, tonight?" A pause, "I just, it's just been tough."

A sad smile broke across Ren's face. One of the rarest phenomenon in all of JNPR. "Of course."

"Come one guys!" Nora turned her head to the sky and let out a heavy sigh, "We were sup- _posed_ to get to breakfast early so that they'd still have waffles left! And now they won't have anything!"

Jaune stood up and brushed his clothes. Not much use changing today. "Well, we have a long day ahead of us, let's see what we can scrounge up."

Nora cheered her agreement and Ren hummed his as the three started walking towards the cafeteria. And somehow, just above the smell of sweaty bodies, Jaune caught the scent of syrup on the wind.

* * *

 _A/N: This fic was a lot of fun to write. It felt good. Drop a favorite or review if you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading._


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